PAUL SIMON BRINGS HOME THE MUSIC OF BLACK SOUTH AFRICA

By STEPHEN HOLDEN

Published: August 24, 1986

''M y new album really came about by accident,'' Paul Simon said. ''In the summer of 1984, a friend of mine gave me a tape of 'township jive,' the street music of Soweto, South Africa. It was a happy instrumental music that reminded me of 1950's rhythm and blues, which I have always loved. By the end of the summer I was scat-singing melodies over the tracks. I thought that the group, whoever it was, would be interesting to record with. And so I went on a search to find out who they were and where they came from.''

Mr. Simon's search eventually took him to Johannesburg, where he immersed himself in the black South African musical community and discovered a world of vitality that is still largely unknown in this country. The album, ''Graceland'' (Warner Bros. 1-25447; LP, cassette, compact disk), is a testament to that search, in which two cultures met and blended. With his characteristic refinement, Mr. Simon has fashioned that event into the rock album equivalent of a work of literature.

''I think of writing an album as like writing a play,'' Mr. Simon reflected. ''As in a play, the mood should keep changing. A serious song may lead into an abstract song, which may be followed by a humorous song. On 'Graceland,' I tried to be more accessible than in the past without giving up the language.''

''Graceland'' opens with a montage of jarring lyrical images that describe a terrorist bombing, drought and famine, bizarre new medical technology and lasers in the jungle. Set against a slogging rhythm of accordion, bass and drums, Mr. Simon's stark telegraphic poetry rings with a mixture of alarm and harsh exhilaration. ''These are the days of miracle and wonder/This is the long distance call,'' goes the chorus of the first song, ''The Boy in the Bubble,'' which conjures an indelible picture of the world as a global village, at once united and divided by the magic of technology.

Although the notion that popular music should have a global consciousness has been in the air since at least the late 1970's, ''Graceland'' pursues that ideal with a passion and an intellectual seriousness unprecedented among contemporary Western pop stars. Stevie Wonder, the Police and the USA for Africa coalition that created ''We Are the World'' all have recorded powerful invocations of global togetherness, but their songs have tended to be upbeat pop chants evoking a generalized humanitarian solidarity. Musically, they have compressed different combinations of gospel, reggae and post-Beatles pop-rock within conventional pop song structures.

''Graceland'' is something new, an album that thoroughly blends various styles of acoustic black South African folk music with strains of stylistically related American rock-and-roll into songs that have unusual shapes and structures and that sound unlike anything familiar to most American ears. That is because about half the album was recorded in Johannesburg with many of the finest black South African musicians playing music that only later was shaped into songs.

''The search began when my record company, Warner Bros., put me in touch with Hilton Rosenthal, a leading South African record producer, who identified the group on the tape as the Boyoyo Boys,'' Mr. Simon recalled. ''Hilton also sent me records of around a dozen other South African bands. I was so impressed that I in-quired whether it would be possible to record with some of them. I found that I could. And in February 1985, I flew with the recording engineer Roy Halee to Johannesburg.

''There were people who said I shouldn't go,'' Mr. Simon added. ''South Africa is a supercharged subject surrounded with a tremendous emotional velocity. I knew I would be criticized if I went, even though I wasn't going to record for the government of Pretoria or to perform for segregated audiences - in fact, I had turned down Sun City twice. I was following my musical instincts in wanting to work with people whose music I greatly admired. Before going I called consulted with Quincy Jones and with Harry Belafonte, who has close ties with the South African musical community. They both encouraged me to make the trip. I later learned that the black musicians' union took a vote as to whether they wanted me to come. They decided that my coming would benefit them, because I could help to give South African music a place in the international musical community similar to that of reggae.''

All told, Mr. Simon spent two and a half weeks cutting tracks in Johannesburg, working with different South African groups and parts of groups. ''The Boy in the Bubble'' was recorded with Tao Ea Matsekha (drums, accordion and bass), from Lesotho. With the Shangaan group, General M. D. Shirinda and the Gaza Sisters (bass, drums, guitar and six female singers), he recorded the tracks for the song that later became ''I Know What I Know.'' And for another song, later titled ''Gumboots,'' he cut tracks with the Boyoyo Boys, the group that had first inspired him.

Mr. Simon soon formed a basic trio of musicians, all from Soweto. They included Chikapa ''Ray'' Phiri, the lead guitarist of a group called Stimela, Isaac Mthsli, Stimela's drummer, and Baghiti Khumalo, the bassist from Tao Ea Matsekha. The following May, Mr. Simon brought them to New York for further sessions. For the Johannesburg sessions, Mr. Simon paid the musicians $196.41 an hour, triple scale wages by American pay rates. And to those musicians who provided key instrumental licks and melodic fragments that were later incorporated into tunes, he also offered writers' royalties.